Beyond Hope's Valley: A Big Sky Novel

by Tricia Goyer

  "I'm not sure how I look at you, Aaron. It's just that I have this feeling deep inside that something's not as it should be. I can't explain it." She let out a heavy sigh. "I'm tired of trying to figure it out. And the truth is I feel you've changed too."

  "Maybe because you don't look at me like you used to, Mari, not with the same respect. It's as if you knew . . ." He turned and moved toward the back door.

  She shot to her feet and followed him. "What, Aaron? Knew what?"

  He glanced over his shoulder at her. "The truth, Mari. It's as if you knew the truth of Naomi's baby."

  Was that relief she saw on his face as he uttered those words?

  Marianna paused her steps and for a moment she thought she would tumble. Her knees grew weak, and the fear that had nestled deep inside her exploded to her mind and heart. Looking at Aaron's face . . . she knew.

  "It makes sense." The whisper escaped her lips.

  She glanced at Aaron again. "He looks just like you." Her stomach lurched and a quivering hand covered her mouth. She wanted to turn and run. She wanted to grab his shirt and ask him how he could do that—not only be intimate with Naomi, but also lie.

  Levi. Her brother had no idea, and she was glad. He considered Aaron a friend. It would be a double slap to his face.

  Aaron let out a slow breath. "I don't know what to say."

  "You can tell me the truth. I want to hear it out of your own mouth. Is that baby yours?"

  "Ja."

  Even though she expected the answer, it came as a fist to her gut.

  "I'm sorry, Marianna. I lied to you." He punched his left fist into his right hand. "I was so stupid . . . so lonely." His eyes glittered with the beginning of tears. His cheeks blazed. A strand of sweaty blond hair clung to his forehead and the innocence of it made her think of the boy she once knew, but nothing about Aaron was innocent.

  "I love you, Marianna," he uttered through strident breaths. "I'm so angry at myself for letting this happen. It wasn't anything I planned."

  "But you told me . . . you told me it was only a kiss." She struggled to breathe. The air refused to fill her lungs.

  "Didn't you jest hear me? I lied. I was afraid to tell you the truth. You're so . . . so pure."

  A scoff escaped her throat.

  "As soon as you got the letter from Levi, telling you about Naomi, I hoped the babe wasn't mine. Before that . . . well, I tried to forget. Tried to pretend it didn't happen." Aaron paused.

  Then his words came forth like a flood, as if he was searching for a way to make it right. "I don't know what to tell you. Levi had abandoned her. You were gone. We found comfort in each other . . ." He stepped closer and put a hand around her shoulders, pulling her to him. Strength had escaped from her body and she fell into his embrace.

  He held her and rocked. His voice choking out more words. "I didn't plan on it. Naomi didn't either. It just happened."

  Rocking in his arms she stared into the blue sky, her gaze fixing on a distant cloud. She wished it would come and offer up rain—to cry for her the tears that refused to come.

  "After the first time we knew that's not what we wanted. I was s . . . so afraid to tell you. So afraid of what you'd think of me."

  "Wait, the first time . . . there was more than one time?"

  He ran a finger under his collar. "Do we have to talk about this?"

  "Aaron, in a few months' time I'm supposed to commit my life to you. And now—now you can't even tell me the truth? You can't even talk about something that's going to affect the rest of our lives?"

  "It was more than one time, but not many. We were just lonely."

  "And from that you created a child. You have a son, Aaron. A son that my bruder is raising as his own. I—I never thought it was you. Levi told me months ago he never slept with Naomi in the family way before they were married." Her voice softened with each word. "I just assumed it was some guy she met . . . anyone but you. You've always been so noble, so good, so kind. I thought you loved me."

  "I do, Marianna. Just because I made a mistake doesn't mean things have to be different."

  Mustering the strength, she pulled away. "Ja, it does." The moistness of the grass wet the hem of her skirt, but she didn't care. "You say you love me, but you would have had me believe the lie that this was not yer child? What will happen when the child grows, Aaron? He's part of the community and his looks make it clear he's your son. As he grows he'll just look like you more. Don't you think folks will start asking questions? Don't you believe the child will want to know who is father is?"

  "I suppose I didna think much about that. Levi and Naomi love each other."

  "And you'll just let my bruder raise your child? Do you not think you have responsibility? Financially and in care? I don't know, Aaron. The way you've done this—you're not the person I thought you to be. The person I thought you were would step up and do something. Would take responsibility. Maybe that's what hurts the most."

  He didn't say anything, just looked away.

  She brushed off a piece of meadow grass that clung to her arm. She didn't know what to do or where to go.

  "What does this mean, Marianna? Now that you know the truth—is the wedding still on?"

  "I don't think so, Aaron." She waited for the sorrow, the grief of the loss to cut into her, but instead, a heaviness she'd hadn't realized she'd been carrying lifted.

  It was as though she was suddenly free.

  "I'm not mad at you, Aaron. I'm just sad. Sad that all this happened. Sad our dream didn't come true. I'm sad you believed you had to lie to me. I'm sad you didna open yourself up to me. I'm sad you have a son and won't have a relationship with him as you should. But I'd be more heartbroken if I loved you like I wanted to. I can't make myself love you as a woman should love the man she's planning to marry. I thought I did, for a time."

  She sighed. "I always looked forward to seeing you when we were children, and spending time with you. I imagined our life together and I thought that was love. But if it were truly love I'd be heartbroken right now. I'd just be crushed that you'd given yourself to Naomi in that way. All our lives we're told to follow God and do what's right. And I thought I was doing that by loving you—loving the life we could have had together. I don't know. Maybe God has a different plan for both of us. I thought I wanted to live in Indiana, and I can't express how much the house you built means to me—that you thought of me. But more than that, I think I was to you something I'm not. You thought of me as a good Amish woman, and though I've always strived to be that . . . I don't think I am anymore."

  And it was then the tears came. She looked up at him through a bleary haze.

  Pain filled in his gaze too. "You're not perfect either. It's not like you kept your heart wholly for me. I heard about you and Ben."

  She pulled back from him. "You know?"

  "Don't you think people talk, especially when they see an Amish woman in the arms of an Englisher?"

  "It wasn't like that."

  "Ja, it might not have been, but I have a feeling. Even if we married you never would have gotten over him, would you?" His voice was thick and she heard vestiges of the hurt she caused, but still that didn't change what he'd done.

  "No." She lowered her head staring at her black shoes. "I imagine I never would."

  She knew from where the sun sat in the sky she should get going back. They had a wedding to celebrate . . . but deep down all Marianna wanted to do was escape. What should she do now that the perfect man had violated her trust?

  What should she do now that she realized her love for the wrong man would never leave her heart?

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  With Levi and Naomi man and wife, Marianna had moved back to Aunt Ida's but she decided to stay at her parents' house with them—the last night within her childhood home. The previous night she'd braved her way through the rest of the wedding, her thoughts far from celebration.

  Now that morning's light dawned, Marianna took her time dressing, yielding
her will to the dress as she'd always done, in the way that expressed self-surrender. As she did, a strange heat filled her chest—anger. Her parents would be here soon, Ben too.

  To say good-bye.

  A longing for the mountains, the store, and her Montana friends caused her throat to tighten. Her hands balled into fists and her teeth clenched. Why had Dat insisted she go to Montana in the first place? If she'd never gone, she'd never know now what she was missing.

  Her chest seemed to fold in on itself as she tried to clear her mind of angry thoughts, but it was no use. For the rest of her life she'd have these memories. Here in Indiana she'd walk among the fields and dream of mountains. She'd pick wildflowers and remember the sway and scent of the pines.

  Unless . . .

  Her eyes widened. What was keeping her here now? Nothing . . . but someone was keeping her away.

  Marianna sank onto the floor, kneeling. Tears filled her eyes and she shook her head. No, she couldn't think of what that life could be like. Couldn't think of Ben.

  Yet her mind refused to obey. She covered her face with her hands and rocked back and forth. Her mother had chosen the right way and she still struggled with unwanted affection for Mark. Mem was happy with her choice, happy with her life, and yet, by her own confession, longing still caught her by surprise at times.

  How would she ever face it?

  Marianna wasn't certain. She had longings for what she was turning her back on, and doubts of what she was walking into. How could she stay without her parents? How could she ever return to Montana when Ben was there?

  Uffgevva, lay it down. The word stirred in her mind. Her community—and the way they lived—made it clear that turning her back on the Englisch was the only path to choose. She had to lay down her desires for someone not from her community. To live as she knew she should.

  "Dear Jesus," she whispered into the still of the morning.

  Uffgevva. Lay it down. The phrase filled her mind again, but the voice was gentle. It wasn't an accusation from community members. Instead a sweet, gentle peace flooded her.

  Lay it down—your worries and fears. Jesus' peace stirred within. Give it all to Me.

  She thought about it for a while. Thought about what her community demanded. She also thought about what she'd been reading in the Bible. Over and over again Jesus said to surrender, not to the wills and rules of man . . . but to Him.

  A breath escaped her lips, and she dabbed her tears with her thumbs.

  Maybe the greatest sacrifice wasn't laying down her will to the good of the community. Maybe it was giving everything—heart, mind, soul, spirit—to Jesus.

  Months ago she'd prayed and asked Him to take away her sins. She'd prayed for eternal salvation. She thought she'd given herself to Him, but had she given enough?

  Is that what Jesus meant when He said follow Him meant leaving father, mother, brother, sister? Not to physically turn your back on them, but to allow their influence over you to take a distant second place to what God desired?

  Was it possible? Could she live a life where she thought of Jesus first—with her love, her attention, and her future? A lightness pushed in where heaviness had been before, and hope stirred. Marianna closed her eyes. It was as if these last six months had been walking through a dark valley and beams of welcoming light crested over the ridge ahead.

  Everything she'd learned growing up in this community modeled and expressed a love for Jesus, but wasn't enough. It seemed almost too simple—to trust Jesus most. To love Him best.

  Jesus. Her heart lightened as she said His name.

  "Jesus." She whispered His name and the corners of her lips lifted in a smile.

  He is enough.

  And knowing that, she was free—free to love the man who loved Jesus most too. Free to grow closer to Jesus together, as their love for each other grew.

  Marianna found her parents sitting by the woodstove, just as she'd seen them almost every day of her life in Indiana. Joy slept in a small cradle by Mem's side.

  Marianna moved to the armchair and sat. It seemed odd for her dat to sit there without his newspaper in hand. Mem's hands didn't hold mending or a seed catalog with plans of next spring's garden. It was one of the few times she'd seen Mem so still.

  Marianna understood. This moment would never come again. As much as they looked forward to settling in Montana, a piece of their hearts would remain in this house. Memories of laughter around the dining room table. Christmas gifts wrapped in brown paper on the bench by the window. Thoughts of exiting this home one night with three happy children—and returning with one. Marilyn's and Joanna's memory trees standing tall on the property . . .

  Such things couldn't just be picked up and moved. Memories couldn't be boxed up with paper wrapping to protect them. Although they would be carried within, those remembrances would fade with every mile they journeyed over to their new home.

  She folded her hands on her lap. What she had to tell them would add another load to what they'd already be carrying away.

  Might as well just come out with it. "Aaron and I spoke today. We've decided not to get married."

  Mem sucked in a breath. "Is there a reason? Surely that decision didn't just come out of nowhere."

  "There are many reasons—some I can't explain. But one reason, mostly. I want to follow God's way. For so long, marrying Aaron is what I wanted. I've come to realize that marriage to him is not what God wants for me. Aaron is a good man. I pray that he'll read his Bible and be open to following God as diligently as he follows the Amish ways. I jest know that God has a different plan for me. I hope you understand."

  She looked from Mem to Dat. Although there was surprise in their expressions they didn't try to convince her otherwise. They took the news in and nodded.

  It was clear God had been working on their hearts too. Suddenly things weren't just about how they'd be viewed in their community. It was beginning to matter more about what God thought, and as Marianna looked deeper into her parents' eyes she noticed a peace she hadn't expected.

  It was as if they knew deep down that God had a different plan for her too.

  Her heart swelled. So this was how it was when you followed God rather than your own leanings or man's teachings. She smiled. All things working together for good.

  Marianna was only slightly surprised to find Mem, Dat, Levi, and Naomi—with baby Samuel in her arms—standing in the front yard as she headed downstairs. Last night, when only a few guests had remained at the reception, Mem and Dat had approached Levi with a special gift. The house wouldn't be sold after all. The farm was their heritage—one Dat wanted to pass down to his son. Marianna paused at the window and smiled. It seemed that Levi would be tending the soil this year after all. He and Naomi would be moving in in a couple of weeks, which worked out for the renters too, since they were moving to Charm, Ohio, to be closer to her family.

  Something stirred in Marianna's heart as she thought about that. What would her Dat think of her returning to Montana? Of being closer to Ben?

  As Mem let Naomi and Levi toward the two trees behind the barn, Dat approached the house. He smiled when he saw Marianna and motioned to the porch swing. She joined him, sitting by his side.

  "Mem and I talked last night. We've seen how both you and Ben have struggled—have tried to do the right thing." Dat raised her hand and squeezed. "We've struggled with the thought that if you allowed yourself to love Ben, you'd be walking away from everything, but we know you. We know you can honor our family and love God . . . even if that means you don't follow the way of the Amish in every part."

  Marianna tilted her head. "What are you telling me to do?"

  Dat smiled. "I'm not telling you . . . I'm allowing you. God has been speaking to me in His Word. If He has chosen a path for you, who am I to stand in your way? Mem and I aren't ready to leave the Amish. We know so many benefits. We love the community in Montana. But we know Ben's love for God, too, and we can't think of a young man we'd rather have you choose
. Besides"—Dat winked—"I'm sure you heard him playing that guitar late into the night. You better go find him and hear what he's been working on. I don't want us to have any more sleepless nights while we're on the road."

  Her lips parted and her heart seemed to jump into her throat. "We?"

  Dat nodded. "We. The four of us adults and Charlie, David, and the baby of course. That's what you want, ja, to come back with us? Before the sun hits its peak today we're all going home."

  She found Ben sitting near the creek with his guitar. He eyed her and then laid the guitar down.

  "I was looking forward to seeing you today." He reached out toward her.

  She glanced down at his hand and then extended hers. He wrapped his hand around it and stroked her fingers.

  The beating of her heart increased. "And as I was longing to see you." Her hand grew warm where Ben stroked it. He stepped toward her, his wide eyes fixed on hers until their noses nearly touched.

  "Ben." His name came out on a whispered sigh, and she turned her head, the feelings overwhelming her. The intensity of his gaze made it hard to breathe.

  "Yes, Marianna?" His breath warmed her cheek. His hand tightened until his grip became almost painful.

  Then, before she could say anything, he spoke. "I want to ask you something. Will you come back to Montana with us?"

  Her heart sank. Was that all he wanted to say? After all this time? She shuffled slightly and looked down at her feet. She was such a fool. "Is that really what you wanted to ask?" She looked up at him again, then glanced to his guitar.

  He tipped his head. "Do you think there's something more?"

  She shrugged. "Well . . . Dat did mention a song."

  Laughter spilt from Ben's lips. "Oh, Marianna, there is a song. There's also more that I want to ask too. But I've been thinking about this, and as beautiful as Indiana is, we need to get back to Montana. We need to seek God there . . . together."

  She saw a twinkle in his eyes. He wasn't rejecting her. Not at all. He wanted her to wait. His smile told her he had wonderful things in store for her . . . for them.